She turned around and scuttled off. Xunxun looked over her shoulders. Soon, rain came pouring down. By the time everyone had left, the raindrops were so big they caused considerable pain at contact.
When there was no one else, a scrawny woman emerged, her appearance obscured by a large face mask. All that could be seen was her clear eyes, and her skeletal frame.
The wind picked up and sent her teetering.
Raindrops down her cheeks slowly, a drop at a time, until they joined with the corner of her eye. She blinked hard, but there were no tears, only cold rainwater.
She turned and trudged away. Rain pelted down with a ferocity that threatened to break her back and nail her into the ground—so that she could never turn her life around again. But she walked on, a step at a time, with her back straight and her heart resolute.
It was her path, and she had to walk it, no matter how hard things might get.
Only the dead don't walk.
